


Breathtaking

by boudicca



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Soccer, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boudicca/pseuds/boudicca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Breathtaking.</i></p><p>That's the only word Germany knows for seeing his clumsy, incompetent ally transformed into this graceful, adept athlete.  No matter who has the ball, his eyes keep wandering back to Italy and the elegant, yet seemingly effortless, way he uses his body.  And from there his mind wanders...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathtaking

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme de-anon.

_Breathtaking._

That was the only word for it - seeing his clumsy, incompetent ally transformed into this graceful, adept athlete who moved across the field in a way that was more like dance than running.

Germany had, through discipline and determination, conditioned himself to be able to run for long distances, but Italy was apparently a natural at it, as long as he was properly motivated. For a moment Germany pondered how he might better motivate his ally during training, but in spite of himself he wasn't really in the mood for thinking about work. Lounging comfortably in the soft grass beside the field where the Italian troops had set up their soccer field, the skies clear and blue above, the weather pleasant... even he had to admit that taking an afternoon off now and then was harmless.

Besides - while Italy was cheerful enough all the time, it was nice to see him so clearly enjoying himself. He couldn't help smiling as Italy pushed his hair, heavy with sweat, out of his face yet again. There was something endearing about it.

Germany tried to follow the game, but regardless of who had the ball, his eyes kept wandering back to Italy. The way he used his body was so elegant, yet seemingly effortless, and it brought Germany's mind to Italy's body in a way that Italy sprawled asleep, naked, next to him failed to do. Italy was lean, but not scrawny by any means, Germany noted. His legs were well-proportioned, and this display of athletics left no doubt that he could use them well when he wanted to. In his mind, Germany moved on to consider Italy's torso - the hairless plane of chest, his trim waist, the gentle line of definition that ran from his breastbone down to terminate at his navel, his smooth stomach...

Hm. Germany hadn't meant for his thoughts to go in that direction, and he felt the prickly warmth of blush creeping to his cheeks. He shouldn't be thinking of Italy that way. They were _allies_ \- there was no reason for him to consider Italy's physique beyond what it contributed to his capabilities in the battlefield. And besides, Italy was a man - regardless of what Hungary liked to hint at, he didn't see how two men could, ah, engage in...

He smacked himself on the forehead. _Stop thinking things like that._ Shaking his head as if to clear his mind of such thoughts, he returned his attention to the game. He was surprised to see that the players were leaving the field - the game must have finished while he was distracting himself with foolish thoughts. He scanned the field, wondering where Italy had gone, when the man himself plopped down in the grass beside Germany.

"So fun, Germany! You should play next time," Italy lilted, beaming. He was still breathing heavily, and his face was flushed with exertion. His skin glistened with sweat, while his hair hung in damp clumps, except for that one hair that didn't seem to be subject to the laws of gravity.

Feeling guilty for what he'd been thinking earlier, Germany couldn't quite meet Italy's eyes. "Did you win?" he asked, his voice coming out hoarse.

"Aw, you weren't watching?" Italy pouted. "I got the last goal!" He tugged at the neckline of his shirt to let air in. "Now I'm too hot, though."

Germany turned to pick up his canteen and offer it to Italy, but by the time he'd turned back Italy had stripped off his shirt and pushed back his wet hair.

Germany almost dropped the canteen.

Italy took the canteen and drank from it eagerly, water dribbling down around his lips. Mesmerized, Germany watched the journey of several droplets as they trailed down to Italy's chin before dropping onto his bare chest and rolling down his stomach.

Germany snapped out of his reverie, uncomfortably repositioning himself at the realization that he was starting to get an erection. He forced his eyes forward, away from the sight of so much of Italy's shining, sweaty skin.

Of course, this was Italy. It was never possible to ignore him for long. He flung his arms around Germany, pressing his face into Germany's shoulder. "Mmm," he sighed happily, "now I just want to take a siesta in the sun with Germany..." He nuzzled Germany's shoulder with his nose, strands of his damp hair clinging to Germany's shirt.

So close, Germany couldn't ignore the scent of him - the earthy smell of sweat over the usual scent of his skin. Germany bit his lip, shifting his hips again. He was fully hard now and desperately hoping that Italy wouldn't try falling asleep on _him_.

Making a decision, Germany stood up, reluctantly breaking contact with Italy. "Maybe you shouldn't nap here."

Italy flopped to the ground lazily, grinning foolishly up at Germany. "I'm too sleepy to walk back now. Come lie in the grass with me, Germany..." He reached up, tugging on Germany's pants legs, and of course, with Italy's knack for finding trouble wherever it existed, his fumbling hands found their way to the bulge in Germany's pants.

Germany froze, paling.

Italy squeaked but didn't move his hand. He was still smiling up at Germany, but this was a different smile, one Germany hadn't seen before. A _knowing_ smile. "Germany?"

Germany tried to say something. He didn't manage.

Italy sat up, keeping his eyes on Germany and that smile on his lips. "Come lie in the grass with me," he repeated, though it was barely a whisper this time.

Germany swallowed nervously and sat down next to Italy.

Italy scooted closer until their knees were touching. "Kiss me?" he requested, leaning in.

Germany pressed a small kiss to Italy's cheek, but Italy responded with a firm kiss to his mouth. His tongue brushed against Germany's lips, and Germany parted them, though his heart was throbbing with panic.

Their lips still together, Italy moved forward until he was sitting in Germany's lap.

"If I'd known Germany wanted to do this with _me_ ," Italy murmured, rubbing Germany's cock through his clothes, "I could have helped all those times when you thought I was asleep."

Germany flushed, looking away.

Italy, oblivious to his embarrassment, went on. "So what do you want to do, Germany? If you won't take a siesta with me."

Germany didn't answer. He still couldn't quite believe this was happening, and didn't know how to admit that he had no idea what men could do together.

Italy's expression was gentle. "But you do want to do _something_ , right?"

Germany let out a nervous chuckle. Realizing that Italy was watching him, waiting for an answer, he nodded.

"Look at me." Italy took Germany's chin in his hands, drew his face close for a kiss. His tongue stroked Germany's while his hands worked to undo Germany's belt and pants.

Germany gasped softly when Italy grasped the base of his cock and eased it out.

Italy nipped at Germany's jaw, then moved on to his neck, gently nibbling and kissing. He kept one hand on Germany's cock, slowly moving his hand up and down the shaft. With the other, he pushed the waistband of his shorts down, letting his own cock out.

Feeling strangely shy, Germany hesitantly reached out, wanting to touch Italy but not quite daring. Italy took his hand and guided it the rest of the way there. He closed his hand over Germany's around his cock.

With an intense look in his eyes, Italy returned to kissing Germany, his tongue probing deep into his mouth, with frequent detours to Germany's neck and shoulders, while he jacked off Germany with one hand while guiding Germany's hand on his own cock with the other.

Germany couldn't help moaning, although he instantly felt embarrassed.

Italy smiled around their kiss, shifting his hips forward. Then he eased Germany's hand off of himself, splaying his fingers to take both of them in his hand, working them together.

The sensation of Italy's cock rubbing against his own was unexpected and exhilarating, nothing at all like bashfully jacking himself off while Italy was (or so he'd thought) asleep.

He couldn't concentrate on Italy's kisses anymore, and buried his face in Italy's shoulder, clamping his lips against Italy's sweat-salty skin to keep from crying out. He jerked into Italy, abdominal muscles spasming, as he came in Italy's hand.

By the time he could think clearly again, Italy had finished too and was now stroking Germany's cheeks gently. He smiled warmly. "You liked that, didn't you?"

Still breathing heavily and not trusting his voice, Germany nodded.

Italy beamed, vigorously hugging Germany. "I can show you even better stuff, later, Germany! It'll be great!"


End file.
